A Night in the Graveyard
by ida4444
Summary: "Even before he had become Nightwing, he had told the Titans that his obsession with the criminal was gone. That Slade was no longer his priority and that he was done searching for the villain. He had lied." T for death.


**This is probably my favorite fanfic yet. I think everybody else is going to like it as well. I was trying to write a fanfic for a book series I read, but it ended up being a flop, so I started on this and ended up loving it! It's a little on the short side, but I think it's still a really cool story. So, here we go:**

**Disclaimer: While I'd like to, I don't own Teen Titans. Nor do I own Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington, VA (although I don't think I'd like to own that very much).**

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Dick Grayson hated graveyards. No matter how bright and cheery they tried to be with their vibrantly colored flowers, intricate gravestones, and well-maintained lawns, it was still an awful place full of dead people. Of course, it was dark when he snuck in after closing, mask-less and flashlight in hand, so these things weren't as detracting from the feel of the place as they were in daylight. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad for his edginess.

The lone Titan was in Arlington National Cemetery, a burial place for veterans who had fought bravely for this country with everything they had. At least, that's what the brochure said. Normally, Dick wouldn't dare do something so disrespectful like this, but he had to know. He had to make sure that what he heard was true.

His first stop was the shed. The lock was easy enough to pick open and what he needed was right by the door—a shovel. Dick supposed he should have brought his own, but it would have made his friends suspicious if he packed one in his suitcase to take to Virginia. And the last thing he needed was his friends' suspicion. They already wondered what sort of "family business" could be going on here, and while some may speculate that he had lied to his team, he maintained the view that it was family business as he said. Just not the kind that they were thinking of.

As Dick walked around trying to find a certain gravestone, he could feel the bulk of the velvet box in his pocket that held the ring with which he would propose to Starfire. He smiled at the thought. Getting married, settling down, starting a family—these were things he had taken for granted when he was younger. He was always too obsessed with being a hero to want these things. He had thought it had to be one or the other. Now, though, he felt that he could find a balance. So, to start, he had to make sure nothing could threaten this family that he wanted.

Dick was so lost in thought that he almost tripped over a mound of dirt. _Way to stumble on to something, Dick_, he thought, before getting a closer look at the words etched on the surface of the headstone:

SLADE WILSON

A dedicated husband, father, and defender of our country

This was what he was looking for. He glanced at the date of death—just a few days ago. That explained why the plot wasn't covered in grass yet. If anything, though, it made his task that much easier. He wedged the shovel in the dirt and started digging.

Even before he had become Nightwing, he had told the Titans that his obsession with the criminal was gone. That Slade was no longer his priority and that he was done searching for the villain. He had lied.

The tool hit the wooden casket with a thud and Dick hurriedly shoveled the rest of the dirt out of the rectangular hole he had dug. The casket was a dark smooth wood and was buried rather deep. The distance between the lid to the grass above had to be at least four feet. Dick kneeled on the bottom half that would cover a body's legs and got his right hand in position to lift the other half, while his left hand held the flashlight. This was the moment of truth. He pried open the lid to reveal the casket's contents.

Dick let out a relieved sigh. The body was there. Slade looked to be middle-aged. His bloodless face was pale and the eye patch over his right eye matched his hair—dark and sleek. The grim set to his mouth and the way his forehead crinkled made him look unsettled, as if the very fact that he had died didn't sit right with him.

It was exactly the way Dick had imagined Slade without his mask on. And yet, as he stared at it more and more, it was all horribly wrong. He wasn't sure what it was, but something about the body just wasn't right at all.

He climbed out of the grave and ran back to the shed, rummaging through every shelf and box. Finally, with a triumphant grunt, he pulled a lighter out from the bottom of a toolbox. Dick went back to the grave and kneeled in the same position as before. He shook the device, the lighter fluid swishing around inside, before lighting it next to Slade's face. The heat created a depression in the skin as it slowly melted, making hot beads of liquid flow down to stain the fabric of the inside of the casket.

"Just like a candle," Dick whispered, while his eyes widened with disbelief.

This wasn't Slade's body; it was a wax replica of him.

"Well done, Robin. Or should I say, Nightwing?" a voice behind Dick spoke.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he tensed up and dropped the lighter, its flame instantly going out. He reached for his mask in the inside pocket of his coat and placed it over his eyes before standing and turning around to face the man with the black and bronze mask. Nightwing hauled himself out of the grave once more before saying, "You know, Slade, you're supposed to be dead."

"I decided death didn't suit me. The first time didn't meet my expectations, so I don't care to go through it again," Slade countered cooly.

The younger man smirked. "Maybe I can change your mind."

The villain's single eye narrowed and he replied, "I'd like to see you try."

Nightwing shifted into a fighting stance as he readied himself for what he hoped would be his final fight with Slade.

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**I know what you're all thinking and it goes something like this: "What the heck? No fighting scene? What happens? How can you just leave us hanging like that? We want to know who wins!" Well, I have an acceptable reason. I wasn't sure how to end it. I love Robin and Slade too much to part with either. I guess I could have had Slade run away like he does at the end of every fight scene, but there's only so many times that the villain can get away and I wanted this to be different. So, you guys decide what happens.**

**Oh, and did you see what I did there when Dick put on the mask? He instantly became more confident, AND I started using his superhero name instead of his alias. Clever me.**

**I'm not continuing this! ****JUST A ONE-SHOT!**** Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. Please review!**


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